


Smile

by seaofolives



Series: Rogue One First Anniversary @ Tumblr [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars: Guardians of the Whills - Greg Rucka
Genre: Child Death, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Pre-Book(s), Pre-Canon, Pre-Movie(s), Pre-Rogue One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 08:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13003905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: When a child dies in the orphanage, it is no small thing, and those who survive the child must carry on with regrets and revenge.





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4 of Rogue One First Anniversary Week with the prompt strength!

With the lack of medicine, the lack of food and water, the lack of power, and basically anything and everything they could ever need, they were all just waiting for death to take the child. 

But when it came and did, it seemed as if no one had been prepared at all. Kaya Gimm had had to leave the sick room because the grief became too much, and her sister Killi herself was inconsolable, the young dead cradled in her arms, a dear one she had sacrificed so much for. Only Chirrut seemed still capable of giving comfort to the other orphans who had lost a friend, smiling as he spoke softly of the Force. 

Baze couldn’t take it. He got up and left. 

Chirrut called after him when the man finally decided to follow although Baze thought he had certainly taken his time. “Baze!” he cried again but Baze persisted in his ignorance until he was almost out the door. 

“Don’t leave.”

Words he never expected to hear from Chirrut, and never wanted to. Figures he knew how to make him stop. Outside the orphanage which was bare, old and too cold for comfort was a city, once holy, that did not look too different. Not even the stars had given it the improvement it desperately needed. 

Chirrut stopped, too, but left a comfortable distance between the two of them. He knew when Baze needed space and gave that much to him. He sighed. “You are angry,” he observed. 

“And you are not?” Baze spat, turning to face the frowning man. “Mola just died. She just died even if we all knew she should have been able to live if we _just_ had the right materials! But now, she is dead. And Killi and Kaya and the children are devastated and—” he threw his hand to Chirrut’s direction, “How could you still be smiling and speaking of the Force when the Empire has killed another child?!” He directed his hand to the empty night. “ _We_ have lost another one to the Empire. Because we lost! Because they would not let us win and protect our own.”

“You think I smile without mourning?” Chirrut asked, his features wrinkled by the distress he felt. “You think I do not grieve for a child simply because I choose to be a pillar, even on the outside? Baze,” he took several steps towards him. Baze waited for him, “the children are frightened, as frightened as we are of losing another. They have seen adults and strangers die but never their own. They need someone to endure for them, someone they can cry on without breaking down for them. Give them the comfort that they need.”

“And that is you?” 

“Who else, Baze?” Chirrut smiled again, but now that he was away from the children, he allowed himself some freedom to hurt. His grief was like a crack on his smile, if it were a cup for tea. “The Gimms are too sad, and you are too angry.”

“And you are not?” 

Chirrut frowned. “If you only knew,” he whispered. 

“Then be angry!” Baze yelled, his voice echoing in the barren space, himself deaf to the desperate note in his demand. “For once, for your sake, lash out! Do not take it all sitting down, don’t just accept things as they are. Be indignant and scream! This isn’t right, this has to _stop_.” 

“And when I have screamed, when I have raged, what then?” Chirrut asked. He shook his head. “What of the children? What of Killi and Kaya, what of you?” 

Baze opened his mouth to answer, but failed. He’d never gone that far with his blazing thoughts yet. He knew only that his heart was bursting, his chest was on fire and he wanted to race to the Imperial ports and murder every single one of those who were there. And he should, that was the right thing to do for all the crimes they had committed! 

“If I let my anger make my actions,” Chirrut said, interrupting him, “then I leave no room for yours. You will find no relief in me. We will not hear each other over the sound of our own anger. Your fury will tire you. Their sadness will tire them.” He smiled again. “And when the fatigue strikes, someone must be here to catch you.”

Baze shook his head, brows wrinkled by confusion. “But…but what about you? Aren’t you tired?”

Chirrut’s smile faltered, but persisted. “I am very tired.” He tilted his head to a side. “But I think I can still carry one of you. Just one, though. Preferably Kaya. You’re just too heavy, Baze.” When Baze snorted, he grinned. 

Baze looked at him, at his blind eyes, his head dipped as if by the weight of their loss, but his smile was real. Exhausted but real. “How can you do this, Chirrut? How can you still smile?”

Chirrut furrowed his brows, lips pursing in thought. “Maybe it’s because something is wrong with my face all along. Maybe this is just how my mother gave birth to me. Maybe I’m just wired this way.” He shrugged, standing straighter. “I can’t go against my nature, though, can I?” 

No. Baze supposed he couldn’t. In the end, wasn’t that why he loved him? His stubbornness. That smile that never goes away and becomes frustrating but is always ready for him. A signature of Chirrut. A reminder that all was not as bad as they seemed, and there was hope yet to be found. A reminder that comfort was always within his reach. 

“Okay,” was all he said in the end, and for once softly. “Stay here,” he added. 

“Where are you going?” Chirrut asked. 

“I need to look for a shroud for Mola. And maybe something for the children to eat or drink. They will be tired after this.”

“I’ll come with you.” He took a step forward. 

“No. Stay,” Baze said, palm out towards him. “The children need you.”

Chirrut obeyed easily. And nodded. He smiled. “Be careful on your way, Baze Malbus.”

Baze grunted his response, but finally, he could also smile before he stepped out. It was not that he no longer felt angry for the life he could not save, and it would be a long time still before he could begin to let go, but he at least felt lighter now. Even for just a little.


End file.
